


Endurance

by BurningGalaxies



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Not Incest, Tickle fic, Tickling, just a little fluff ball I've had in my notes for a while, ticklish five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 16:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20100160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningGalaxies/pseuds/BurningGalaxies
Summary: "I know how to have fun, Klaus.""Then prove it." Said brother challenges immediately, a shine in his eye that Five takes note of as he gives the other a surprised once-over."..." Five knows he's being baited. He knows it, and Klaus knows that he knows it.But damn him to hell, he'll never leave a challenge unsettled.With a roll of his shoulder, Five readjusts so that he's facing Klaus head on, voice level. "Name your game."





	Endurance

Five finds that, much like everything else in his long life, talking with Klaus is a much less strenuous task when aided with the soothing effects of a strong alcoholic beverage or three. Preferably something akin to vodka. To make ends meet, tequila.

Encountering a freshly sober Klaus Hargreeves at half past noon on a rainy Saturday counts as a making-ends-meet sort of moment in his book, should he ever write one. Though, Five supposes he'll leave the literary musings to Vanya. They suit her better.

(And if he had already begun to make that particular drink before Klaus entered the room, and Five had decided to pin his reason for making it on his presence alone, then what of it? Being an old man crammed into a teenager's body is reason enough, he believes he's _ entitled _.)

"Oooh, burning the midday oil, are we?" Klaus' voice calls through the relative silence of the foyer, perhaps made all the more louder by Five's extremely low tolerance for sudden, unsolicited conversation. 

Needless to say, he rolls his eyes and neglects to answer, busy with drink related matters. _ When did we run so low on ice? _ He ponders as he tops off his glass. It couldn't have been him. _ Was it? _ It was difficult to tell when he didn't have Delores to nag him about his habits the morning after. He _ did _ have a tendency to spiral into —

"_ Five _ ," that same voice startles him out of his musings with a flinch and a reactionary glare (which Klaus, of course, ignores). "Hey, sorry to interrupt whatever's going on up there, but uh, have you seen a chain lying around anywhere, about _ yay _ big?" 

Klaus holds out his fingers as if they're some valid unit of measure, which Five follows with his eyes, virtually unimpressed. "It has some tags on it - you know, the metal kind - and they're kinda really important, so if any of this is ringing a bell...?" He holds his fists to his chest hopefully. 

But Five is already back to his drink, sipping from it with an air of casual disregard that he hopes upon _ hopes _ will be sufficient enough to send Klaus away. Five isn't his keeper, for God's sake. "If you've lost something of yours, it's very unlikely that _ I'll _ know where it is. Keep better track of your things." 

Instead of the expected huff and pout, Klaus simply snaps his fingers. "Darn. That's what I thought you'd say," and then his eyes take on a different level of inquiry - a subtle shift from _ general confusion _ to _ ooh, what do we have here? _

Five turns away in his seat as Klaus rounds the bar, tapping his fingers along the counter top the entire way, much to his discontent. "_ Buuut _, I'd be willing to wager that you know a thing or two about lost treasure, huh?"

...What? 

Five raises a brow at his sibling, then drops it with a low hum when Klaus cocks his head to the left. Ah, yes. The dusty collection of odds and ends he'd gathered from their father's expansive yet disappointingly outdated library. 

He scoffs and finishes off his drink with a jerk of his head, then examines the glass with a disapproving look. "They're not treasure. Just some light reading."

"Oh, right, right," Klaus agrees, nodding sagely as he tilts his entire body in an attempt to read the titles upside down. "I too find myself enjoying the wonders of the human anatomy in my spare time. Absolutely riveting. Just _ wait _ until you get to chapter three, I wouldn't want to spoil it for you or anything, but —"

Five sighs loudly and directs a pointed look at Klaus across the counter. 

(Klaus, who's now sporting a hand towel thrown over his shoulder as if playing bartender. And just where the hell did he find that anyway? Ugh.)

"I wouldn't deign to assume you're going somewhere with this, Klaus? I'd like to be alone right now, if there's anything about me that hasn't made that painfully obvious to you already." 

Klaus has the good graces to look even slightly guilty before shrugging. "I know, I know, one's company and two's a crowd, but... I _ may _ have heard from a little Benny that you could use some company." Klaus offers his hand for the glass, and Five eyes it suspiciously before placing it in his palm.

Klaus turns with a flourish to begin shaking various bottles of liquids around as he makes... something or other, and Five shifts again in his seat. It's always somewhat unnerving when he's reminded that Ben still lurks about wherever he pleases, watching them. He'd first assumed that Ben would only follow Klaus, attached to him like a dog to a leash, but it does make sense that he would choose to do otherwise given the chance.

Still. Five doesn't like it when others stick their noses in his business, and Klaus knows that. Apparently, he just doesn't care. What's new?

"So I'm guessing you two have decided you know what's best for me, then?" He scoffs. It doesn't make any logical sense. How does one determine that someone else going about their business needs company?

"Ehh, generally. To be honest, dearest brother, I wouldn't care half as much if you weren't drinking us out of house and home. That's my thing. I called claimzies years ago."

Five's about to roll his eyes and suggest that Klaus go find someone else to hold his sham of an intervention with, but then he slides the drink across the counter and Five catches it without missing a beat, making eye contact. The concerned look in his brother's eyes has nothing to do with alcohol, and Five softens slightly, bringing the glass to his lips instead.

"So, the books. What's up with that?" Klaus asks, leaning over to flip through the first couple pages of the topmost cover. "Man, these things are _ relics _."

Five shoos the encroaching hand away with a frown. "Not that it's any of your business, but it's... research." He has to choose his words wisely if he hopes to bore Klaus away.

"Research?" He repeats. Five hums, drinking. "Research for what?"

"For fixing this, obviously." Five gestures to all of himself, then brings his other elbow up on the counter as he holds his glass with both hands. 

Klaus gawks. "What? That's all? You're serious?"

Five bristles, setting his jaw. "As a heart attack." He wouldn't expect Klaus to understand. The only other person in the family who even remotely knew what Five was going through was Luther, and even then it wasn't quite the same concept. That is, Luther appeared content to settle with finding ways to deal with his new form whereas Five hadn't stopped searching for a way to reverse his age regression since the apocalypse was avoided. 

Nearly a year later and he has nothing to show for it.

Five's frown deepens as he finishes off the drink. Klaus catches on to the sinking mood and backtracks.

"I mean, yes, the whole teenager thing is off kilter," he tilts his head in consideration, leaning against the counter. "But if I were you, I'd approach this whole fiasco a little differently."

The sarcastic grin that Five pastes on does very little to hide the bitterness from his tone. "Oh yeah? Enlighten me."

"Happy to!" Klaus perks, plucking the empty glass from Five's hands again and fumbling around under the counter this time. "See, _ you _ " he twirls his finger at Five, who smacks him away again with a wrinkle of his nose. "For all intents and purposes, aren't even eighteen yet. That means you can do whatever stuff you want that you missed out on while growing up in the apoca-not. _ Without _ all the glitz and glam of being – sorry – _ looking like _ an adult. And by glitz and glam, I really mean shame and guilt."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" 

"Yes! It's supposed to mean _ fun _," Klaus huffs, settling the glass in front of Five again. It's refilled with clear liquid, now. "F - U - N, the thing you used to have?"

Oh.

"Oh." Five deflates slightly, hunching his shoulders as he sips - water? He grunts and brushes the glass away with an irritated wave, very much not appreciating that he's getting cut off by the resident junkie of all people. The irony is not lost on him.

"Aw, c'mon. How about games? You used to like games."

"Key word being _ used _ to, Klaus. The solution to my problems won't come from ignoring them and embracing attitudes of the past."

"Ah - never said it was a solution."

"Then why are you wasting my time?" Five sighs.

"Because you have time to waste! Isn't it beautiful how that works?"

"No, not really."

Klaus flops down on the counter again, harumphing. His perpetual pout does nothing to sway Five's stance on the matter. "C'mon. _ C'monnn _. Why don't we just..." He clicks his tongue, pushing up to his elbows and resting his chin on steepled fingers. "Why don't we try just one game? Just one. For science."

Five narrows his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You know, to see if you still have it in you. The ability to experience fun."

And Five _ has _ to roll his eyes at that suggestion, because he most certainly DOES know how to have fun, excuse him. He likes drinking, and gambling probably, but how can he have fun doing either of those things when he needs a chaperone just to see an R rated film?

"I know how to have fun, Klaus."

"Then prove it." Said brother challenges immediately, a shine in his eye that Five takes note of as he gives the other a surprised once-over.

"..." Five knows he's being baited. He knows it, and Klaus knows that he knows it.

But damn him to hell, he'll never leave a challenge unsettled. 

With a roll of his shoulder, Five readjusts so that he's facing Klaus head on, voice level. "Name your game."

Klaus' eyes light up as he taps his fingers together excitedly, a sign that obviously means trouble, and proudly declares, "Endurance."

'Endurance.' Five's eyes roll to the ceiling as he tries to remember what that means, and then he groans when he makes the connection.

"Klaus—"

"What? It's _ your _ game!"

"That I made up when we were eight!"

"And? You said to name your game, I did, so let's do it!" Klaus raps his knuckles on the counter. "Move it or lose it, old man, we're losing daylight."

Five gives him a pointed look. "We are _ not _ doing endurance."

* * *

"I cannot believe we're doing endurance." Five grumbles as he arranges himself on the couch, shifting when he overestimates how long his legs are. Klaus, meanwhile, perches on the opposite arm, legs crossed as he watches.

"Right? But hey, take off your jacket while you're at it, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Five huffs, chucking said article of clothing off to the side and loosening his tie. The whole thing is childish and ridiculous. Jesus, the lengths that Five will go to just to get some alone time in his own house. 

(Still... A small, tiny smidgen of himself wonders if he'll still feel anything at all. The situation is dramatically different from when they were children and Five has been desensitized to numerous, far worse concepts than... than _ this _ nonsense.)

"Al-_ right _ ," Klaus claps, sliding down from the arm to straddle Five's hips (or, his knees rest on either side of them anyway). "Now I know you know the rules, but for the sake of everyone present, you have _ cinco minutos _," Klaus holds up and wiggles all the fingers on the hand with 'Hello' written on it. "To keep your arms above your head. Loser buys dinner, sound savvy?"

"Yes, fine, whatever." Five shifts again, impatient as he crosses his arms behind his head. "Are you going to start any time soon?"

"Sure thing, boss." Klaus grins, glancing at the clock as his hands hover on either side of the smaller man's hips. "And your time startssss....now."

Five had tensed in anticipation when Klaus started to squeeze at his hips, but practically sighed in relief when he didn't feel anything. Honestly, he had expected this to happen. This whole game was just a waste of his —

— _ woAH _.

Five's back arches with Klaus' hands as his brother's fingers apparently get bored with his hips, dragging in mirrored paths from his hips to along his sides, and he shivers.

Ok. 

So.

He can still feel it. 

Klaus blinks as they stare at each other in shock for a moment, but that surprise quickly turns into bemusement as he sloooowly drags his fingers down again, chuckling at the way Five curves with it.

"Aw, you're like one of those magnets."

"Sh- shut up!" Five snaps through gritted teeth. The feeling of light fingertips drifting up and down his sides brings with it a sensation that he can't really describe. It's not 'tickly,' not really, but it's intense. Like a shock, almost. Waves of tiny shocks that leave goosebumps in their wake, which would have actually felt nice had Five not been trying to prove a point.

Five is jolted out of these thoughts by a sharp tug at his leg, bringing him back down on the cushion when he hadn't even realized he'd been moving. "Where do you think you're going?" Klaus teases, hands slipping under his shirt again. "We're not finished." 

Five's about to argue that he can't damn well control how he moves around, but a yelp escapes him instead when Klaus' fingers start to scritch at his sides, that intense feeling flaring up again. His heels dig into the couch as he bites at his lips (the traitors, curling up at the edges without Five's permission) to muffle himself.

"Ooh, I think we found a good spot," Klaus muses, obvious as ever. "Good, but not the best..." His tongue sticks out as he concentrates and Five has never been more annoyed by that _ stupid _ —

"Gah!" Five squeaks - actually _ squeaks _ \- when fingers start tweaking at his lower ribs, pressing his back into the couch as if he can escape the feeling that way. He grunts with the effort it takes not to start laughing, an irritating feeling at the back of his throat that he will not abide.

"Oh yeah, I remember that!" Klaus smiles, skittering fingers working steadily up along Five's ribs and producing some truly embarrassing grunts and huffs. "C'monnn, old man," he coos. "I wanna hear how much fun you're having. Let me know how I'm doing!"

"N-no," Five pants, but he cracks moments later when Klaus reaches his upper-most ribs, curling inward and twisting with a desperate noise. "No no no _ nohoho _!" 

Oh god, it's the _ worst _ . That electric, tingly, unbearable feeling that works its way under his skin like it's never going to leave, and all from simple touches that drive him up the damn _ wall _... But he still somehow manages to keep his hands behind his head, fingers clasped together tightly. It is... Difficult.

Klaus' commentary is not helping in the slightest. 

"There it is!" He crows over the bubbly giggle fit, wriggling his fingers in the spaces between Five's ribs that drive his hysterics even higher in pitch. "See? I told you this was fun. Better keep those arms up though, or you're gonna lose!"

As if Five doesn't know his own damn rules.

He sputters when Klaus' attention drifts higher, and he has to white-knuckle the arm of the couch to keep his arms from coming down. "K-Klaus!" He huffs, arms tensing.

"Yes, brother mine?" Klaus drums his fingers once where they rest under Five's arms, and his elbows twitch inwards with another small gasp. 

"S-shit, don't!" (He knows he's smiling, but right now he wishes he could murder Klaus. Something bloody and twisted and merciless —)

"Don't... what?" His voice is all honey and saccharine, touch fluttering just as Five attempts to answer, and Five throws his head back with a helpless snicker.

"Oh come on! That was the perfect set up. Really could have played into that one." Klaus chuckles as he gives up on the cat-and-mouse shtick, fingers wriggling insistently.

Five kicks out, turning his head away with a fresh peal of laughter that won't _ stop _, despite all his efforts. It rushes out of him like water from a faucet, giggly noises that turn his face ten shades of red from pure embarrassment. Listening to himself on the daily is always a twisted joke, but this? This is mortifying. Absolutely disturbing. Nevermind that he might somehow enjoy the experience as a nostalgic reminder of his careless youth, this is so grossly unbecoming of his stature —

Klaus stops suddenly and Five finally goes slack, laughter quieting as he's able to take a few controlled breaths, a small hiccup or two. God, he feels lightheaded. Should he feel this lightheaded?

"You know what? That's the best idea you've had all day." Klaus removes his hands and Five makes a confused noise as his brother starts rucking up his shirt.

"Klaus, what are you...?"

"Shh. Testing a hypothesis." Klaus wiggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Five want to slap him, and then he nuzzles into Five's stomach and _ blows _.

Five _ shrieks _.

His arms come crashing down instantly, hands clawing and pushing desperately at Klaus’ head. He doesn’t even care that he lost at this point, he just needs the _ unbearable _ ripply feeling to stop. It has to stop right _ now _.

Klaus, over the racket of shrill hysterics, simply grins and grabs Five’s hands with both of his own, seemingly having anticipated the protest. He takes another exaggerated breath and then digs back in all over again and it’s so horrible and intense and Five _ can’t _ -

He goes through an entire mental catalogue of any skills he possesses to get him firmly out of his body, all of them flukes, sadly, in about three seconds. 

That’s also about how much time it takes for his hands to slacken in Klaus’ hair as he feels himself weakening under the attention, and the laughter that leaves him is a deep thing. He can actually feel it. Deep and full, leaving him with physically nothing left to give. Nothing mentally left to hold on to.

And then, miracle of miracles, Klaus stops. 

Five pants, laying there on the couch like the dead thing he’s become, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to deal with Klaus’ smug, smirky attitude. He just… he just needs a _ second _ to pick up all his scattered thoughts, alright? They’re all shaky and loose.

“Good fight, old man, but no cigar.” He hears as his shirt comes down, covering his stomach again the way it’s supposed to.

“You…” Five accuses faintly, arm slung over his face. 

“And only twenty seconds left, too. It’s a shame,” Klaus tuts as he helps haul Five back up into something resembling a normal sitting position. He still looks a mess, clothes wrinkled with the evidence of a struggle and hair wild. Klaus only ruffles it further, and Five is too loose limbed to protest much besides a perfunctory _ hnng _ noise. “But hey, that wasn’t so bad, huh? Yeah?”

Klaus nudges him with a hopeful look that Five hates. He hates when his brothers get all concerned about him over the smallest things. It’s so mushy and misplaced. “It was awful.” He grumbles.

“Well yeah, but you totally loved it.”

“No. I hated that.”

“_ Loooved _ it.” Klaus teases, slinging an arm around his shoulders that jostles him into his side.

Five huffs and pushes at him, wrinkling his nose. “Stop it. You’re so annoying. And boney.” He would use the full extent of his vocabulary if his entire world hadn’t been upended and rattled about like a rag doll all of one minute ago.

Klaus doesn’t seem to care. He rolls his eyes with a knowing look - the gall - and crosses his legs as he leans back into the plush cushion of the couch. “Sure. Just admit that if you hated it as much as you say, you could have jumped away at any moment. And yet, shockingly…?”

Five doesn’t bother to answer that right away, though the heat he feels tinting his face a dull pink is not entirely due to his previous lack of breath. He turns, snatching his blazer and shrugging back into it with more dignity than he possesses at the moment. “I was… compromised.”

“Uh-huh.” Klaus winks when Five glares at him, adjusting his tie now.

“It was a competition.”

“A game, but go on.”

“Tch,” Five shakes his head as he straightens, deciding he doesn’t have to listen to this drabble anymore, and puts his remaining energy into blinking as far away as he can currently reach - which is the stairs. Lovely.

Klaus calls after him as he starts climbing, “Hey! Don’t forget about my dinner!” Followed by something a little quieter that sounds suspiciously like ‘sore loser.’ 

Had Five had the energy, he would have blinked back just to smack him over the head for that. As it is, he’s already weary by the time he reaches the first landing, so he settles for rolling his eyes. Klaus is luckier than he knows.

But, Five supposes, as he pushes into his room and locks his door, he might be a little lucky too. Luckier than most, if the feeling burrowed into his gut is any indication. He hasn’t felt so light in years, has never felt so tired in such a lively way.

Whatever, though. Five mentally brushes aside those sappy thoughts as he settles in for some more reading. The world still has some secrets for him to uncover. He doesn’t have time for silly childhood games.

Fun, though?

He smirks to himself as he flips open to an abandoned page, already thinking of a few different ways he can return Klaus’ so-called good intentions.

Yeah. 

Five knows how to have fun.

  



End file.
